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mannley collins Sep 2014
Im a normal kind of guy.
I was born in a normal house,
In a normal street,
In a normal town,
In a normal country,
to normal parents.
My normal parents paid their taxes.
My normal parents supported whatever War was happening.
My normal parents supported whatever monarch was in power.
My normal parents voted for normal political parties.
My parents were normally patriotic.
They led normal lives.
I grew up to be normal.
I went to a normal public/private school.
I had a normal ****** relationship with another boy at school.
I gained a normal education.
I chased girls and some boys as any normal boy would.
I enjoyed normal *** with girls and some boys.
I fell in love with Jazz/Folk/Blues as any normal boy does.
I fell in love with writing and reading aloud "poetry" as any normal boy does.
I fell in love with reading novels and sociology and comparative religion as any normal boy does.
I rode motorcycles as any normal boy does.
I went camping and fishing and rambling in the fields and forests
as any normal boy does.
So my teenage years passed--halcyon days--and nights,
leaving the body behind regularly.
Until I stole my first Alto Saxophone.
Was that normal?.
It certainly was compulsive.
And no shame or guilt either.
I tried,in vain to play like  Charles Parker--
and failed miserably as did everyone else.
I wandered through Europe and the Near East,
and the Middle East and South East Asia--dressed in yellow.
Cooking Rice Dal Sabji Roti-everywhere I went-.
over twigs and sweet smelling cow ****.
My latest horn with "the Pres"engraved on the bell.
Played My Funny Valentine  sideways and upside down.
Plastic Reeds--oh--Plastic Reeds.
And pure Crystal Mouthpieces.
I sat under Gotamas tree and NOTHING happened.
Ah sweet nothing.
I was VOID of all.
Just an empty headed wanderer.




More to come
Sid Lollan Sep 2018
309
What’s the connection?—
        a secret kept best between plug and socket.
               Prophet man gone the old electric way,
[and durn’ an election year, no less]. Epigrammatic burps, and
  occasional flatulence, of intellection,      
I can’t help
        but admire my own kindofbouquet, it ain’t easy—
                 when Christ was crucified like gas…

…There’s a million and more clichés I could toss around as mud and dirt;
       Alas!,
                         I’d rather speak in terms of glass, [plateglass, stainedglass etc.,
               germs and love, and guns and lovely lovely ca-sh,

today’s math; burnt and sad, self—Walking [my] small town streets, sure to stray faraway of dense windows,
        and passerby's in ugly masks, with karaoke mouthpieces,
                       Ballads of boredom on precipitate tongues, Shoo!—away
and blow apart minstrel clouds.

        No taxis, [ever]
        just men and women in ordinary cars, pedestrians,
                   in obvious shoes,sporting unconscious denim,northeastern scowls
—fashionable scowls,
         nuanced grays that distract from the spots of ill sun [hostage winter sun;]
                 scowls like Northeastern sky herself.

“I’ve surely lost my perspective”
                 [An empty phrase, really. A neat vaguery, I submit.]
        I had a perspective, I still got it;
        Though not much use it does me being how singular it is,
                                       Optics and all, no shades of reflection,
Dense windows of thought, so dense,
       —it’s now a microscope! Hell, all i can make out is a loose collection of colors,

A broken box of loose wires
          and some kinda bang-up dodgy liberty, those frayed connections, too.
                Nothing as tidy as plug and socket,
        however,enough
                to keep the lights on.
jeffrey conyers Jul 2019
We preach it.
We teach it.
But doesn't reach out to help.

So much homelessness.
Do we try to assist them?
Find a home for them.

Or like many talks about them.

We see it.
We cry out.
But hadn't tried to reach out.

Like many, we stay quiet and complain.

Elected official use it to their benefit.
And the one elected forget about them needing help.
We see them in the mayor and the council that preaches affordable housing.

We just a world of mouthpieces.
Jimbo Oct 2011
I think they blow demon's breath
To knock the weak to the ground
Some of them don't even realize
How they're being used
Willing, ignorant mouthpieces
Gleefully spitting the Name of the enemy
Gracefully twisting the Word despised
Into something unrecognizable
Olivia Mercado Aug 2013
Writing is all I do.
It is who I am, the dialogue
Spinning through my mind
Every moment of every day.
It is all I see.
My life in words.
But I have to write about things.
Stories, always stories.
That’s what you’re supposed to write
That’s what people read.
But why?
So much noise in a story.
The colors and the worlds
And the loud, loud people
That aren’t people, they’re just a waste
Of ink and paper and hope and love
And the stupid, stupid readers fall for it
And believe it’s somehow true
And it’s just so much noise.
My poems are my soul
What I really think
Said plainly,
No mouthpieces
No wasted love on those stupid things
The imposter people.
This is me.
Black and white.
Insecure.
Unsure and imperfect
But honest, always true.
Look.
Read.
Know, this is what I do, what I am
Born to write
And do it badly
Knowing no one cares.
Del Maximo Jul 2016
clear light skin
dark hair with big curls
he resembled a kid we used to babysit
slight in stature
humble in posture
a look of shock and disbelief
deep seated in his baby face
and bubble eyes
his demeanor saying
“I don’t belong here”
a soft peach colored long sleeved shirt
clean, pressed and tucked in
with pants pulled up
no gangbangers’ stereotype
a picture of innocence
clearly a child
being tried as an adult

I kept close watch
during jury’s selection
with the miracle of real-time captioning
listening with my eyes
darting from screen
to arena’s drama
back to screen
observing potential jurors’ interaction with
defending and prosecuting mouthpieces
body language says so much
trumpeting the seriousness

with capital punishment looming
jurors absorbed spiels
the presumption of innocence
the credibility of evidence
the ability to objectively choose death

I would tell myself
the defendant didn’t just do this
to the decedent
I would tell myself
the defendant did this to himself
I would tell myself
it’s not my job to decide
if he lives or dies
I would tell myself
only to decide
if the crime defines death’s statute
all personal feelings aside
but I’d also tell myself
this is just a kid

thank God
I wasn’t selected
© 07/06/2015
Do we feel it when it all falls unconscious
What if all the mothers on the planet
Were ensconced into their hearts simultaneously
And if for a single moment
There was freedom from the tyranny
Of endless duties and responsibilities
Would it all fall apart at once

I beg your pardon
But tonight's sunset was one of the Sun's most fertile deposits
So what if we were to shun the day
And instead make love to the darkness of the desert
For the pheasant is my ancestral totem
And it is obvious in the moonlight
That you motion to me like a novice
For after you and I are seduced by the harvest
We can choose first among the stardust
Its true that all this was once our own garden
From a time when we first learned to become human
Until we eventually return to the understory
Of our aboriginal commonality

We are still happening
We are learning to shun acceptance
And make due with unexpected lessons
We are undifferentiated fantasy
In lands of cholera and chronic romances
We are far from perfect
But we still always try to do our best
And i don't expect you to protest anything

And if we dance for days against the apathy we make
And spray gradients of sound from our awakening
Into the pleroma’s defiance
We can try out our mouthpieces
And seek fingers of lightning
At a height quite defiant
Whenever we get uptight like a runway
Sundays are always smiling
And whenever we make love
We break records with our bodies
Against the conundrums
Of being polished too roughly
We funnel living diamonds
Into pipelines of supply and demand
Like cats and mice we chase trends around bends
Of commerce and economic insurgency
DC raw love Jan 2015
I met a man so gifted
Meek in his loving ways

He'll capture your heart
And he'll teach you God's ways

He's funny and slick
He lives by God's ways

He's an emotional creature
That hates hurting ways

His name is P. C.
And I love him so

He's one of God's mouthpieces
And he preaches LOVE

God be with you
Live by his ways

God is his daddy
And he loves his ways
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2022
i'm in a bad way, in a really bad way -
i'm sleeping less, i'm eating less,
i'm not thinking about anything but her -
what she's feeling...
i already figured out something:
she's looking for an "engineer" of sorts,
her father was a ca-car mechanic...
my tongue is wondering into blah blah
my blood pressure is shooting
through the roof, i'm getting cramps
in my stomach: butterflies my ***...
well i wish it was a gentle ferris wheel
down there in my guts...
but it's more like a ******* zero gravity
ride... that mad one where if you had
big chunks of cheek on you they'd be
flapping like a bulldog's!
nervous, twitchy, i still have to complete
my qualifications for this job
but... no... oh come on... get out of my head!
i haven't felt this authentically sick
in a long time... i'm rattled... i'm a teenager
again... giddy loved-up fool! fool!
- and that's what i'm saying... i've just done
a Harry Windsor...
                                  what an irony: well no,
there's no ****** irony in any of this!
at 35 you'd think i'd be more sensible,
that i'd listen to advice...
                          but it's not like i was on
the dating market, that i ever dated...
we're just working together... but already
we've been on our first coffee "date"...
and yeah, i paid for it...
                            the kid will most certainly
hate me, parents are leaving
for Jamaica in a week for two weeks...
if she wants to be taken out i'd say:
want to come over? what would you like
to eat? gnocchi, some other pasta?
a steak... you like a curry? oh, you're into Chinese?
you want chairman Mao's red braised pork
belly? i can make that...
what movie you want to watch?
i have hundreds on DVD... what wine would
you like? you'd rather sip some wine
while i put on a vinyl... i have plenty of jazz vinyls...
you're not into jazz... i have some other crap...
scented candles? something stronger
than wine? absinthe, whiskey, cognac?
you want to bring a swimsuit so we can
jump into the jacuzzi.... yeah... it's in the garden...
in a "shed"...
              if i don't get slightly tipsy in the next
hour or so i'm going to be a right ol' wrecking ball...
better: i'll be a nervous wreck...
but at least that's the next few poems taken
care off... because i don't think i'll be writing anything
else about anything else...
oh for ****'s sake... i'm back to listening to some
Roxette and Bon Jovi... what's next?!
you give love a bad name, bad medicine,
watercolours in the rain... fading like a flower
(do you get) exited?
why did i ask for her number? oh, right, i wanted
clarification about how we were coming back
from Oxford and Dan's people-carrier
broke down by Potter's Bar - the clutch gave in,
he was unable to change gears and
the revs were spinning into the region of 4
while going at 20mph...
so she paid for the Uber... went down the most
picturesque windy avenues of the Essex
countryside, via Loughton - places i know from
having cycled down them...
god... i'd love to take her cycling in the summer...
if she would be up to it... have a picnic
in a field... **** in the shade of an oak...
oh: hello La La Land... if i was diagnosed
as a schizoid once before: now diagnose me...
loved up idiot... and it's not like she's some
stunning 20 year old and i'm gagging
to pass on my genes... like i already said...
pass my genes?
oh sure... that ends up well...
by the time i might have a child...
that's 1/2 of me... by the time there are grandchildren
there's only a 1/4 of me left... 1/8, 1/16, 1/32 etc.
as much as i am "love" with her...
infatuated? crazed? i'm also thinking about
the inverse ratios... a potential little Frankenstein
monster... my thinking could be passed
on... not the entire, whole narrative...
bits and scraps... well... that implies
a sort of cognitive cloning... there might be a 2/1
of me by the end of it...... then 4/1, 8/1, 16/1 of me...
i guess that's why i started writing...
- and i am so completely terrified imagining that
people might suss me out, figure out that
i have a crush... how much of theoretical
poker do i have to play to supress outright showcasing
my feelings while at the same time continually
making incursions on the charm-front?
- Matt! get your **** together, why are you
perched on the windowsill with your hand
over your mouth!
- conscience? ego? who are you, why such a silly
question?!
so i figured she has an archetypical figure in mind,
like her father, a car mechanic...
oh, sure, sure, i can add some spare parts
to a DIY problem... but i'm primarily a wordsmith...
most Slavs are...
i've already texted her some music recommendations,
"meditation" music... i'm already talking
to her about her son's name, the etymology
of Fredrick... very Germanic, like my second
name, Conrad... blah blah... no... of course
i wouldn't call him merely Fred... lazy-*** English
way of shortening names...
i woke up today and had a thought...
sky... tree... oak... red... sun...
those are absolute nouns...
everything that composes the natural world is
an absolute noun...
since it has no origin from man's creativity...
therefore? i cannot generalise an absolute
noun under the guise of: nothing...
something, anything, everything, or merely: thing...
the sun is not a "thing": it's the sun...
a tree is not a "thing": it's a tree...
the sea is not a "thing": it's the sea...
mountain, goat, dog, cat... rat...
   but... a bed is not an absolute noun...
a chair is not an absolute noun... hell... let's change
that... these are unconditional nouns...
everything born of man is a conditional noun...
why? look at the simple example
of a car mechanic asking an aid for specific tool...
most of the time he asks for the right tool...
but sometimes he's so involved by his work
that his verbal communication is misplaced
by what the eyes see... he might ask for
a thingymajig... he'll use a misnomer supplied
with the comforting words: you get the picture...
yeah... that THING...
socks are things... but dogs are dogs...
the latter are conditional nouns...
since they are not necessarily minded since
they are used... equipped...
i can't be equipped with a tree... or the sea
or the sky...
so she's looking for someone like her father...
well i know how language works...
i already introduced her to the idea of a prefix
and the suffix: omitting the R i asked:
you son's name is merely Fred? not Fredrick?
is it because of the suffix -****?
no, wait... that's actually an affix -ick (come to think
of it)...
so apart from me spamming her with
a playlist... we moved onto favourite people
in history... it was a challenge... Philip II Augustus...
of the Capetian dynasty...
Frederick II Hohenstaufen...
   that experiment he did with the nuns and
what would later become feral mute children...
because he wanted to find out what language
arrived on earth first... the croaking of the crow?
the growl of the tiger?
the snorting trumpet of the elephant?
i'm here... no... i don't recall how we arrived
of ever being reported...
perhaps that's how we keep going...
by a collective amnesia... we have to forget certain
things in order to pursue life per se,
well... at least writing this little "philosophical"
pieces has allowed me to return to some
balance... being loved up is not good to you:
it uses you up... and there are high chances of
being disillusioned... best prepare for the disillusionment...
- i have to calm down and think
about the world, or at least parts of it...
take for example the transgender phenomenon:
so there has been a backlog in metaphysical inquiry..
well, no surprises, the English speaking world
was always oh so, practical, ergonomic...
it's not like the Russian speaking world still
entombed in a Titanic battle with their prescribed
Greek orthodoxy... lunatics galore...
even this whole grammatical game that's currently
being played... sure... i'm game:
my preferred pronouns are... ONE / WE...
that's the royal approach...
as one might add: we greatly disapprove...
the end...
                   since with one, one presupposes
a potential entourage of we...
we implies a magnetism toward a shared
opinion - a quasi-self... while the plurality of a THEY
implies... oh... THOSE basket cases other "there"
in the corner... oddly enough: nothing,
yes... NOTHING is categorised as a pronoun...
since? well... how can it be anything except a noun?
it's not an adjective / quality... you can call something
attributing nothingness: but there are no attributes
of nothingness, thereby you can't treat
nothing as a noun... since... there's NO, THING,
to be allocated a noun-status...
weird... no? that nothing is a pronoun...
so is everything... anything, something, itself...
oh... but the game has already started...
there are so many audacious mouthpieces out there
doing the knitty-and-the-gritty work
with their hormone blockers that...
my two-cents are hardly important...
i guess i just came late to the party...
cool... now that i've ingested enough alcohol to
appear calm, i can go about my business...
now that i stopped feeling all loved up
i can find a chance to refocus my attention
on immediate concerns...
all the better... it's enough for one hurt creature to love
another hurt creature... it's another
to navigate this world...
the world i arrived at... given the current climate...
needs something equivalent to a magic compass...
i don't have that...
i'll scar myself less by not investing any
genes in the pool...
i don't appreciate family politics...
that cut-throat archetypical brother against brother...
no, thank you... these words ought
to be enough... and if they're not:
so be it...

from the mouth of giuseppe belli:
lei se tienghi li gatti a ccasa sua
(missus, keep your sodding cats inside)
Michael Marchese Oct 2021
Weariness
Has tempered me
But no mouthpieces
Censor me
Indenture me to servitude
Is only of my swinging
Mood
Exude I love you
Tacitly
And shatter hearts
As passively
Aggressive lets
Me fester in
My own regrets
Oblivion begets distress
My rest in peace
Of mindful quest
Should I arrive
Before contrived
Conveys finality
Described
jeffrey conyers Jan 2019
Be not upset.
Or forget Tom Brokaw been a robot for years.
Remember reporters aka mouthpieces sign rights away to offer an opinion.

Contractual obligated to stay quiet.

It's the age trap that got Broky caught.
Like, many older whites that grew up in a segregated climate.
He stuck to limited knowledge he know about America.

Many Latin heritage speak dual languages.
It's the American born falling behind a changing society.
To prove my point just look at the clown in the White House.

So he under attack.
Well, his mouth of stupidity asked for that.
Tom Brokaw got the blues.

**** even his weak apology is getting bad reviews.
jeffrey conyers Apr 2020
We hear the message from the mouthpieces, the community leaders and others.
The system is failing the black youth.
Really?
What about the parents?
What about black churches?

We blame the schools?
We blame the government.
But not those within the communities bringing it down.

We know the phrase "a mind is a terrible thing to waste".

But if the black youth trade is to steal, rob and sell drugs.
Then that youth is failing themselves.

If getting pregnant without concentrating on your future and goals.
Then that youth is failing themselves.
Really, we can't continue to blame anyone else.

Notice, those black youth that stayed focus and succeeds.
They knew what they wanted in life?
They made their dreams come true.

If the parents are the drug supplier to the community?
And let's not avoid this topic?
Cause many black youth parents are dealers in the trade.
They hurting society and the community and put them at risk.

If mom still thinking she the friend instead of the parent?
Then restrictions of guidance are limited.
She yet to comprehend the role of a parent.

The government, can't be blamed completely.
If Johny can't read?
Then he alerts anyone.

And if the parent can't read?
Then failure occurred because the parent didn't want better.

Then there is the church?
Unlike the days of the fifties and sixties and early on.
The mission seems to be growth and ownership of land.
Instead being that lighthouse of hope to assist those needing it.
Sometimes, we as people in everybody business.
But our very own and get upset when they come into it.
So, what's the difference?

We hide behind religion and opinions quickly.
Lisa loves Anne or Jimmy loves Ron and instantly opinions start to come.
And instantly judgment soon will come.
Why?
Do we invade others lifestyle?

And get enrage when asked, where is the love?
More likely the mouthpieces when bring up the bible?
But avoid dressing those various sins.

Especially those "cheating" so called "just" men.

In society, we call them "finger pointers" trying to check you.
For when checking them they cry fast and quickly.
But they in everybody's business.

Who?
Doesn't know a nosy neighbor?
Or curtain sneak?
Looking out the window just to see.

Call the police for anything vital and see many looking out.
Quick to ask someone, what's going on?
It's like an injury on the interstate?

Instead of driving by it to keep traffic moving.
They are turning their head for a peak.
Even, the driver trying to see.

But two of the same gender minding their business.
Always have others bringing the attention.
Fool, get a life and leave folks alone.

Then church folks alone is oddball breed.
And with that nothing else need to be said.
Yenson Feb 2020
Stop trying to engulf me in your open septic wounds
desist from washing your tears with my eyes
cease exchanging your mouthpieces for words not mine
don't share my vision with your nightmares

Stop inviting me to your carnivals of clowns and fools
restrain from writing your dirges using my name
abstain  running your hatred in my fields and meadows
cry shy of using my absolution for your redemption

Stop faking my honest heart to deceive your ******
disallow my contemplation in your depravities
bar your cowardice's as they ****** defeat from victory
extinguish your mediocrity at the expense of your insignificance
Politics — the iceberg's tip:
Beneath, the beasts in shadows slip.
Let's delve into this vile abyss,
If your mind's not lost in the mist.

Three-quarters sick, mere human scraps,
Once people, now in mental traps.
Poisoned by the filth they fed,
Described herein — absorb what's said.

Trust your gut, let instinct guide,
Let it be your truth's allied.
Let's begin, dig bit by bit,
But verify — don't just submit.

Propaganda lays it thick,
Politics its puppet's stick.
Mainstream howlers chant and cry,
Their wails designed to stupefy.

Politicians — jesters all,
Screen-born gnomes, grotesque and small.
Bound by commands from deep below,
The iceberg's base, where filth does flow.

Pyramids are known to all,
But we describe the deepest fall.
The more corrupt, the deeper hid,
In excrement, their deeds amid.

Numbers shrink as depths increase,
At the bottom, dangers cease.
They wage their wars with proxy hands,
Traitors lead their vile commands.

How did we become such fools,
Led by **** from prison schools?
The world is woven with paradox,
The ShitIceberg pyramid mocks.

In madness, words are twisted round,
When minds are clogged, no truth is found.
Clogged with lies and fear and grime,
Instilled in us since early time.

This filth impedes our quest for light,
Instead, we aid the utmost blight.
Decay has reached its final stage:
All serve the Foul Goat's rampage.

That hybrid goat, a distant tale,
Now propagandists we unveil.
In jackals, souls have fled the scene,
Their reason gone, their minds unclean.

The filth's agenda they convey,
Their masters' lies they must obey.
Once their deceit had weight and might,
Now it's nonsense, void of light.

They've outdone Goebbels, ****** too,
In lies, in hate, in evil's brew.
Putler serves the Goat Supreme,
Propaganda's pawn in the scheme.

But soon this pawn will meet its fate,
The mad world ends, albeit late.
The demon king will checkmate all,
This grotesque realm is set to fall.

But back to those vile mouthpieces,
They lie with ease, their shame increases.
They spew their filth in endless tons,
The masses gulp it down in runs.

In wicked propaganda's layer,
"History" is the next betrayer.
Fantastical tales they now recite,
Where outcomes never end in right.

Deformity and slavery portrayed
As victories in battles waged.
Control the past, the future's grim,
Shame and disgrace on every limb.

These vile beasts prepare our fate,
Lulling minds into a state.
In lies, they drown us all anew,
Their course is set — the deepest blue.

All resources, including man,
Belong to just a creature's clan.
Their success is built on gold,
Their weapons used to keep control.

They craft crises, inflate the cost,
The people struggle, freedoms lost.
This management of stagnation
Leaves the masses in starvation.

When survival's all you know,
And sticky fear becomes your foe,
Transforming humans into beasts,
The slaughterhouse prepares its feast.

Sheep-virus and petty wars,
Fear induced through lying scores.
The global madhouse shakes in dread,
Believing lies, they strike their head.

In agony, the world convulses,
Hunger next, as evil pulses.
Their plans align: to ****, defame,
The hammer strikes the sheep's domain.

All nations false, a grand charade,
A global dictatorship displayed.
Genocide, their only goal,
To increase the damaged soul.

"Education" serves this aim,
A thinning layer of the sane.
The world is NOTHING — that's their creed,
A machine designed to mislead.

A well-oiled hellish mechanism,
With the task of soul's extermination.
Thus, fascism prevails unseen,
Through violence, fear, a constant theme.

Reason *****, to make you forget
That you're a being of divine beget.
To extinguish that spark within,
Transforming it to filth and sin.

For "education" — pseudoscience.
Usually jesters in compliance.
But led by ******* at the core,
Their goal: to make the psyche sore.

Neurotics, fools, and idiots too,
The mindless herd they aim to skew.
To rule a world of brainless skins,
Requires but minimal sins.

Soullessness is also key,
And pseudo-faiths that blind and flee.
Thus, Mind and Spirit pierced and torn,
A sieve through which our essence's worn.

With pseudoscience and false creeds,
Only **** fulfills their needs.
These chains are crucial to their plan,
To nearly **** the Reason-Man.

So we approach the secret bands,
They govern much with hidden hands.
To them, the dull are mere debris,
Their rule enforced through secrecy.

There exist the hybrid clans,
Half-human beasts with goatish plans.
Under Satan, the foul goat's reign,
Their spirits long ago were slain.

This "aristocracy" of black,
With Rothschild as their loyal lack.
In evil, they persist and strive,
To demons, they've pledged their life.

Beneath them, demons from afar,
Disgraceful ****, a cosmic scar.
Yet skilled in seizing worlds anew,
Their appetite consumes what's true.

They target souls, our very core,
Hence wars and fears forevermore.
They twist ideas, corrupt the man,
Their attacks a calculated plan.

They've armed the higher-ups with lore,
To keep us slaves forevermore.
For centuries, they've sealed our fate,
We're but mince-meat on their plate.

It's time to see, the end is near,
Those who've sold their souls, beware.
They'll be cast out with the ****,
Together, banished, their time is done.

Salvation lies in cataclysm,
It burns the dark, revives the prism.
The Spirit, now in agony,
In fascism's grip, seeks to be free.

The servants of those ghouls will pay,
Their reckoning is on its way.
The end is close, the madhouse six,
The world insane, in its last fix...

Only those who doubt the lies,
And fight, preserving honor's ties,
May be saved... perhaps, not sure.
For those who've trashed the light — no cure.

Well then, the poem reaches end.
Seek all within — let light ascend.
But if we stay in silence, meek —
To Hell we'll go, as beasts, oblique...
Traveler Jul 13
It’s not that difficult to hide the patterns of evil within the chaos. Their confusion is intentional, the algorithms support their disinformation.
The mouthpieces of darkness echo the narratives of negativity to the masses. Then they feed on your anger!
Theirs is no us and them, there is only you in control of your existence.
Traveler Tim
World War Three

Hot wars aren’t effective — they fail to erase,
Too few of the people depart from this place.
And the costs are annoying — too messy, too slow
For the ****** who started this genocidal show.

That ghoul of destruction, who plans our collapse,
Who dreams of our ruin, and cackles, perhaps.
A Demon, a Maniac — not men, but pure ****
He recruited as hounds, barking “****!” at his drum.

The first step of this war: contamination —
Toxins in food as a planned operation.
The goal — generations of dumb and insane,
All trapped in illusions and drooling in pain.

For idiots die when you feed them a lie,
First scare them to panic, then kiss them goodbye.
The lie? A fake virus. The truth? Just a jab —
And the chaos is cleansed like filth from a slab.

To fuel this collapse of the world's ugly mess,
Let’s roast their poor brains with a Five-G caress.
Just "signal," they say — but the damage is clear:
You’ll cough out your lungs as it fries your last gear.

Then — chemtrails as weapons, sprayed high in the sky:
Even the strongest will choke, bleed, and die.
And “disinfection” will steam through the air —
Poison the trusting with perfumed despair.

Next — protocols for “healing,” all tweaked:
Even those who recovered — we’ll strike while they’re weak.
From old simple sickness, we'll craft a new blow —
One shot to the chest, and down they will go.

But the kingpin’s the test — it’s deceit in disguise:
You can’t **** them all without blinding their eyes.
We don’t give a **** if bananas test “hot,” —
A virus, you say? We'll say what is what.

We practiced this trick with the legend of AIDS —
Fake tests, real poison — the dead in cascades.
It forged a new Medicine, sinister-bright,
Like SS in scrubs — the same lust for the blight.

And we must place our traitors in all of the halls —
Install them in power, behind all the walls.
They search for the beasts who look human, but lack
Even hints of a soul — they smile, but attack.

They breed these vile creatures — a weapon refined,
Then push them to rise as they bribe and bind.
With rumors of virtue, they tighten the noose,
While keeping them leashed — no chance of a truce.

Demon, subhuman, and filth — that’s the trinity
Dragging the world to a slaughter divinity.
They’ve turned Earth to Hell, and the battle is lost —
We pay for our blindness. They’re counting the cost.

But the few who remain — there’s one path to embrace:
Call down the Sun’s fire — burn out this disgrace.
No matter the pain, or the fear in our chest,
Take demons with us — and give them no rest.

All subhumans will perish, and we shall return,
As Spirit awakened — let falsehoods all burn!
Death is a rumor, a trap they designed,
A lie for control — a chain for the mind.



---------------------




1.
They poison, they burn, they inject us with lies —
Then mourn the “deceased” with dead, plastic eyes.

2.
A jab, a lie, a Five-G beam —
Welcome, fool, to the butcher’s dream.

3.
The Demon smiles — the cattle kneel.
Their death is called “the greater heal.”

4.
Call down the fire, no mercy, no pause —
Burn down the beast with its venomous laws.

5.
The final war is waged through screens —
With syringes, freaks, and toxic genes.



---------------------



The Human Malfunction

A few crude parts in a rigid routine —
That’s the machine of this world, obscene.
We glimpse it all in a flash of light —
In moments of Truth. And They are the Might.

The driving force? Some hollow themes,
That shape this circus of walking dreams.
Hell, it seems, is the global plan —
Or a madhouse ruled by the idiot clan.

"You're just a body" — that's the key.
Scare them enough — and the world bows to thee.
This filthy beast has played this game
Till the Earth itself forgot its name.

Images empty, choices thin,
Stupid thoughts spinning within.
While anxiety rips through every soul —
The beast fights ***** — that's its role.

Same stupid thoughts — like a looped cassette,
Repeat till the brain’s a soaking net.
And so the "hard worker" rules by dread —
Running from truths that scream in his head.

Clutter your mind with mindless grime —
Escape the thought of your measured time,
Of the filthy larva that sets your fate —
And thus, the child learns to obey hate.

And grown-up kids — they march in hell,
Proud little scouts, taught to rebel
Against themselves by school and job,
While the zombie-screen begins to throb.

The worst of all weapons in this vile range
Is the one that makes good minds deranged.
You'll get no truth — just sly deceit
From demons smiling in your seat.

It's all fake thoughts and scattered lies,
A whirl of shards before your eyes.
The mad kaleidoscope never stops —
The filth spins faster till reason drops.

Schizophrenia. Dumbed-down brains.
The system runs on toxic chains.
Food is poisoned — so they erode
Faster and cleaner. Just give it a load.

Fake science paints this plastic realm,
With devils high upon the helm.
And Spirit erased from the master's frame —
The world became a latrine of shame.

For morons they built their holy fraud —
Religion absurd, insulting God.
Official chains on Spirit’s neck —
It’s nearly killed in this mental wreck.

Lies rule here — lies are grace,
They’re sold as progress in your face.
But Hell, not "spiritual trial", is this —
Few survive such an abyss.

“Smart” folks tinker with dead ideas,
Shifting blame to fake frontiers.
The beast must always redirect
To new scapegoats — that’s the trick.

It rules through splits, through made-up foes,
It plants division and reaps our woes.
It aims to rot the Spirit’s root —
And if we sleep — it bears no fruit.

So step outside this loop of pain.
Go inward first — through fire and strain.
Only with Truth can these plagues be healed —
The coming battle has not been sealed.

The beast is the enemy. Search for the key
To wipe this horror from all we see.
If all were in Spirit — it wouldn’t be hard.
Strengthen the Spirit. Stand on guard.



---------------------




1.
You're not a soul — just meat, they preach.
Then sell you fear. Then pull the switch.

2.
Lies spin fast in the circus of pain.
The beast calls that “a human brain.”

3.
Truth is the weapon. Spirit — the shield.
Without that fire, the world must yield.



---------------------



"Ideologies" — So-Called

These filthy “ideologies” we’re fed,
Were born from Satan’s twisted head.
They rule dumb flocks with puppet strings —
All nations fake — all fascist things.

There is a center. One dark hive,
Where every “ism” comes alive.
Their main agenda, through and through:
To castrate Souls — erase the True.

To do that, “knowledge” must be chained,
And fake “science” globally ingrained.
The Holy Spirit — gagged and torn,
The sacred gap now grows forlorn

Between what’s real — the Spirit’s flame,
And this fake world — a shadow-game.
Evil wins without one blade —
Just press of lies — and truth will fade.

Next step? Invent a newspeak tongue:
“We’re slaves to words,” said Marx once young.
It storms the mind — a brutal blast —
Until the Purest Flame won’t last.

Then numbers, metrics, “facts” galore —
Ram them down throats forevermore.
Their verbal circus, cold and sly,
Becomes the blade we live and die.

Charts, equations, pseudo-claims —
A flood of **** in data frames.
With just one gang, the world they choke —
Each “country” just a running joke.

Divide the masses, turn them wild —
Each “ideology” defiled.
They feed the mob with myths and slime —
Just whispered suggestions dressed as “mind.”

Language itself is their device,
If all foundations melt like ice.
You are a Soul — a willful breath —
Forget that truth, you march to death.

Round and round in the wheel you spin —
The system grinds your blood and skin.
Two worlds as one — both crush and flay,
Till you’re a beast with thought stripped away.

School’s been crafted by this plague —
A killing belt for soul and spark.
They mask it all with laughs and gags,
And myths of “errors” in the dark.

The worms dig deep, they drain your core,
Then toss your husk onto the floor.
And husks walk proud, with zeal they serve
The super-slavery they preserve.

The lies grow louder — now complete.
They flood the ears with sewer heat.
Only one force runs this domain —
Infernal Rule, and devil’s chain.

If you were yourself, you’d hear your soul —
Its call, its fire, would take control.
But lies infect the spirit’s well,
With “holy” chains that smell like Hell.

From speech-reality to virtual void —
One step. Then all that's true destroyed.
And with it dies what can't be typed —
That deeper channel, wordless, wiped.

This war is final — total burn.
It’s raging now. It's your turn.
Break from this beast’s degrading mold —
Stand up, resist, and fight — be bold!



---------------------




1.
They **** your mind with "noble goals" —
While slaughtering your inner Soul.

2.
Fake “truth,” fake “words,” fake “schools,” fake “light” —
The Beast calls all that “human right.”

3.
The final war is not with steel —
They **** your Spirit — make you kneel.

4.
One language, one lie, one global cage —
And you're the product of their rage.

5.
The Soul they neuter, truth they gut —
Then praise you for obeying shut.



---------------------



The Kingdom of Twisted Mirrors

A world distorted, a camp designed
To cage the soul and chain the mind —
A trap without the cheese or grace,
That holds us ‘til the end of days.

This Camp is ruled by subtle chains,
By sticky lies and ghostly pains.
Betrayal blooms, and filth is king —
They’ll **** you cheap for anything.

Their “education” trains you to kneel,
It kills your fire, breaks your will.
Fake science poisons thought and eye —
The soulless fool believes the lie.

They teach you “theories” masked as fact,
While faith is warped and truth attacked.
Religion turned to sabotage —
A bombing run on Spirit's charge.

The press? It screams distorted news,
Half-baked, hysteric, soaked in ooze.
It strengthens this unholy lie
And stokes up fear until we fry.

Propaganda’s foul, insane —
To keep the flock forever lame.
They steal the last of human joy
By feeding fear — their favorite ploy.

Politics? A rotten play.
The “opposition” feeds the fray
From the same trough as those in charge —
Who wins the vote? A circus march.

“Survival modes” are pre-designed,
Imposed like “laws” to numb the mind.
This social stress destroys the nerves,
Then blames the soul it never serves.

Nonsense floods in every stream —
You flail and drown inside the dream.
The monsters rule this foul terrain,
Where every hour oozes pain.

They need to coat your life in fear,
Until your light just disappears.
You slowly rot — a lifeless clod —
And call that ash heap “life” or “God.”

Violence? Just backup fuel
To keep the slaves forever cruel.
But most obey — their minds are ****,
And ruled by fear they won't admit.

For those who rise — the bright, the brave —
There’s force to crush and dig their grave.
Their efforts lost, their fire dimmed —
The slave’s been wired to stay unlinked.

No rebel now can build the tool
To overthrow this fascist rule.
All thought has dulled, the lights grow faint —
The minds are weak, the wills too quaint.

Degradation’s everywhere —
The wise are rare, stripped raw and bare.
Corruption reigns. The Spirit’s gone.
And traitors multiply at dawn.

Yet sellouts thrive in every hole —
Like ****** of every filthy role.
And thinner grows that sacred thread
Of Souls not bought, not wholly dead.

A human is a will, a flame —
Not some obedient, hamstered shame.
But lunatics don’t feel the cage,
They spin inside it, drunk with rage.

Survival, fear — that’s for the vile.
It doesn’t suit the thinking style.
So the agenda, all refined,
Is crafting freaks from humankind.

This Camp turned Madhouse, soaked in blood —
The genocide left scars and mud.
Now ***** walks through shattered doors —
Collapse complete. The final score.

This all belongs in History’s Pit —
In fire, in trash — just burn the ****.
No mercy left, no hope, no balm —
Just rot, decay, and toxic calm.

The Sun itself will stoke this flame —
The fire is coming — set to maim.
And fifty years ago, Some One
Pressed a dark switch and said: “We’re done.”



---------------------




1.
No cheese. Just chains.
And fear injected into brains.

2.
Truth is dead. The freaks applaud.
The madhouse crowned itself as God.

3.
They sell you fear, then sell your soul —
And call that process "civil goal."

4.
Education kills the spark.
Religion strikes the Spirit dark.

5.
Camp. Madhouse. *****. Flame.
One twisted system — same old game.



---------------------




1.
This ain’t a world — it’s a camp in disguise.
With walls made of lies and barbed-wire skies.

2.
No fences needed when minds are caged —
The Camp runs smooth, well-trained, enraged.

3.
They called it “life,” but built a cell —
And filled it with the tools of Hell.

4.
Work. Obey. Forget your name.
This is the Camp. This is the game.

5.
The map says “freedom,” the ground says “grave.”
It’s a prison in flesh — not a land for the brave.

6.
It ends not with chains, but a gentle smile —
The Camp is polite… and built to defile.

7.
A needle, a screen, and a scripted cheer —
The guards now laugh — and call it “care.”



---------------------



Survival

The main rule now is “survival” —
Through cowering, screened removal.
A contest rages in this sphere —
How to shove their filth in your ear.

How to dumb down your own herd,
To drive the Soul from its own bird.
They want subhumans — beasts that feed,
And bow to every filthy deed.

They scheme with countless tricks and lies,
Where memes replace all truths and skies.
Memes — a virus of the mind,
That eats your Spirit — leaves you blind.

Whole hordes of freaks create this slime,
They breed the mad, align the crime.
They turn us all into the herd,
To feed at troughs with silent word.

And you can **** with lies like these —
The "pandemic" showed how to seize.
Easy to **** with deceit's spear,
When every fool’s a pioneer.

The box that screams — believe it all!
Obey! Surrender! Take the fall!
The beasts then count their poison cheap —
With venom sown, the herd will sleep.

Inject the dumb with poison sweet,
Frighten with memes — they’ll bow, repeat.
They’ll gobble madness, neat and clean,
The virus of the psychotic scene.

You must invent a “problem” then,
And spread it fast among the men.
Then combat memes will hunt and **** —
To crush the minds, to break the will.

Because these beasts are all so base,
You’ll sink to that primitive place.
The wise will choke, resist, and spurn —
Into this universal burn.

A Hell for Mind and Spirit both —
This global mess, a poisoned growth.
Sold-out ****** breed endless cries —
Their psychovirus multiplies.

Soon drowned in noise and endless roar,
The world becomes that Hell once more.
This stench of lies, this rotten breath —
No barriers strong enough to death.

The point of no return is crossed —
The fascists grind us down and lost.
They drag the world into the mud,
With claws that tear, with jaws that flood.

.................
.................

But those who do not yield or break,
Their souls alive — for freedom’s sake —
Shall face the fiery, blazing gale
Of Sun’s hot wrath — the final hail.



---------------------




1.
They dumb us down, inject the lie —
Our spirits choke, but won’t comply.

2.
Memes and poison flood the brain —
The beast rules through fear and pain.

3.
Survival’s just a mask for chains —
A hell of lies that burns our veins.

4.
But those who fight, who won’t submit —
Will face the Sun’s last fiery hit.



---------------------




1.
When lies consume and shadows reign,
The final fire cleanses pain.

2.
From ash and smoke, the truth will rise —
A blazing storm against all lies.

3.
The Sun’s fierce wrath will scorch the night,
And burn away the death and blight.

4.
No cage survives the fiery flood —
The Spirit rises from the blood.



---------------------



Sandboxes

Slaves assigned to sandboxes,
Busy day and night — no rest.
Building castles out of sand,
Lost in futile, empty quests.

For their castles, paper pays —
Worthless scraps for health exchanged.
Yet the slave believes the trade —
“A fair exchange,” his mind arranged.

From childhood dumb and hungry —
The cross of generations’ grief.
Much more filth invades his brain —
The slave just feeds on false belief.

He loves his handouts most of all —
Cheap tricks, two-in-one deceit.
Two-in-one is crap and slime —
His diet’s been that crap to eat.

All is poisoned — food and drink,
Spirit crushed, mind locked away.
But instead of fight, he moans and shrinks —
Year by year, decay holds sway.

He envies only dumbed-down beasts,
Who sold their souls for scraps so thin.
And built a hellish, filthy mess —
A prison tight to trap us in.

For only madness will hold fast
This shattered world in cement cast.
The slave will fuel the insane feast —
Thus reigns the plague that won’t cease.

The wise few left must understand —
In sandbox waits the final sting.
Unite your strength, make your stand —
The final hour’s on the wing.



---------------------




1.
Slaves build castles made of sand,
Trading health for worthless hand.

2.
Poisoned food, a poisoned mind —
Trapped in madness, blind and blind.

3.
Madness binds the broken world,
While slaves’ bleak fate is slowly twirled.

4.
Last call’s coming — break the chain,
Or drown forever in the pain.



---------------------




1.
Hell’s prison built on lies and sand,
Where slaves are shackled, chained by hand.

2.
Trapped inside this fiery cell,
A living hell — a private hell.

3.
They forged the cage from pain and greed,
A hellish trap where none are freed.

4.
In this **** pit, the lost remain —
Forever bound in Hell’s domain.


---------------------



The Path

"Someone spotted fruit unripe, unripe,
Shook the tree — it fell, it fell...
Here’s a song of one who failed to ripe,
Who had a voice but did not tell."
— Vladimir Vysotsky, "Interrupted Flight," 1973


Don’t pity yourself — not once, not ever.
Seek Freedom’s Path; all else is never.
Though few remain — dull herds that roam —
We’ll break free from this beastly dome.

Fate here is trap and tangled strife,
You’re often lone — despair is rife.
Good efforts wasted, works undone —
This world’s a sewer — filth’s the sum.

That filth, disguised as “wisdom’s peak,”
Leads only to decline, so bleak.
Nature’s patience long since fled,
And God abandoned this foul shed.

Choose always paths where you resist the Evil,
In struggle, something’s won, no mere upheaval.
No effort wasted where the Fire burns —
The Spirit never from the Flame returns.

Strengthen your Spirit — fortresses rise
Where beasts can’t breach, no weak disguise.
That ****’s all base, devoid of soul,
Only Spirit rules the cosmic whole.

Develop intellect — reject all lies.
Mountains of deceit before your eyes.
Test all you hear — don’t carry crosses blind —
Slaves bear burdens; free souls free their mind.

Slaves bear crosses, but Spirit’s lead
Lights up the one bright path ahead.
Though traitors swarm — vile beastly throng —
Stay far from them; they do no wrong.

Trust always your intuition’s call,
For mind without it is weak and small.
With it, destroy all fears and lies —
Intuition’s message Spirit supplies.

Find comrades wise and spiritually sound —
Others are dead, no life is found.
Diminish ego, or else you’ll see
Alone we’re weak, but joined we’re free.

There’s nothing here to praise, not even you —
This Hell incarnate — shame and filth in view.
So join the fight — last stand is near,
While Spirit’s flame burns bright and clear.

This battle’s not a brute assault,
No mindless charge or violent fault.
Seek out a way where Spirit’s might
Strikes with precision — sharp and light.

Let blows be subtle, not brute force —
Sharpen all skills for war’s harsh course.
You’re no weakling — Spirit makes you giant —
Cowards spin as hamsters, compliant.

Victory will be ours to claim,
When best unite to burn this flame.
The years of slavery disappear,
You’ll rise no longer bound by fear.



---------------------




1.
Don’t bow to fate, don’t waste your breath —
Fight for your Spirit, fight to death.

2.
The herd is dumb, the world is Hell —
Break chains, escape this cursed cell.

3.
Trust your gut — the mind alone
Is weak and lost, abandoned, thrown.

4.
The fight’s not brute, but sharp and true —
Spirit strikes — and cuts right through.

5.
Victory waits where brave unite —
To burn the years of slave’s night.



---------------------



Pre-Thoughts

Tastes and morals —
Like pre-thoughts —
Are poisons brewed:
The mind they rot.

And everything imposed —
Your own thoughts few and thin:
A dulled, obedient world —
No spark, no fire within.

So mind is sick and failing here —
If you don’t think alone,
You’ll need a “guru” to believe,
A master set in stone.

These “gurus” mass-produced,
Like lies they shove and sell.
Thus soullessness and filth abound —
Earth turned into Hell.

Morality’s a falsehood —
Slavery’s patience, all the rules.
Tastes imposed by ruling **** —
Desires trapped like hamsters’ fools.

Dumbing down’s the beastmen’s goal —
Trust nothing, that’s the creed.
Consumption’s sickness, lies abound —
Fascism feeds their greed.

Learn once more to think with courage,
Intuition’s path is true.
Though hardships pile like mountains vast —
At first, the world’s askew.

Strengthen Spirit — you’re Essence pure.
Forget all that you’ve known since youth.
All here is poisoned — even “need,”
And teachers? Dumb fools speaking untruth.



---------------------



Shipwreck

"That day the captain was called ‘you’ —
The skipper matched the young in skill,
Straightening backs and tearing binds,
Mad sailors raged along the hill."
— Vladimir Vysotsky, "Ballad of the Abandoned Ship," 1970

No captain here, but beasts in crew —
Exceptions rare in this foul fleet.
They won’t stand tall, won’t heal the wounds —
All lies, like drunks in vile defeat.

No minds remain — the dumbness storm
Has snapped the fragile “roofs” away.
Our ship leans hard — it’s nearly lost,
And rats among us run astray.

No sight of shores where free men dwell —
Ships run on fear and lies alone.
The whip’s the food that rulers sell,
Their power’s meal on grinding stone.

Those happy days have fled for good,
When purpose drove our every move.
Now lone we sail the raging flood —
The sea’s name is Decay’s dark groove.

We curse the weather, fate, and chance,
Distracted from our fatal role.
If so — soon all will lose the dance —
Like lambs, we march toward the knoll.

We lie as one, enabling vile,
Betraying all for empty gain.
We serve the horned Goat’s cruel smile,
And **** our souls to feed his reign.

Forgotten are the roots, the core:
You’re not a slave, but Spirit bright.
Like lambs to slaughter, goats implore —
Is this our bitter, woeful plight?

We cannot unite — just endless moan,
Our second name: the dirge, the groan.
In brains a fog, one blank erasure —
We’ve long since lost our own true nature.

The icons of dark Satanism
Are everywhere — the signs reveal.
On money’s cross we’re crucified —
False promises conceal the deal.

We teach our kids to lie with grace,
**** sparks of talent in their eyes.
We fill their minds with mirage’s face —
A galley’s chain beneath the skies.

The worthy here are hunted beasts —
We **** them all without remorse.
If sensitive, count down your lease —
Few live long on this dark course.

Few leave a blazing, lasting trace,
That helps the next who’ll walk the line.
In seas of lies and deep disgrace,
A faint trail fades beyond all time.

No miracle will lift us up,
No gentle tide will bring us peace.
We’ve long ceased being ourselves —
Decay’s vast sea will never cease.

If seas of shame and filth prevail,
Poseidon brings the final wreck.
The Earth itself stands ‘gainst us all —
Decay has driven her to check.

So comes the “End of History” near —
For sins we all will pay the price.
Plain words say: disaster’s clear —
We’ve all been fools — and paid the price.



---------------------




1.
No captain leads — just beasts on board,
A sinking ship, a world ignored.

2.
We lie and serve the horned Goat’s reign,
Our souls sold out, consumed by pain.

3.
Decay rules seas and Earth alike —
The end is near, the final strike.

4.
Few leave a spark, most fade to dust —
In lies and filth, betray our trust.

5.
The truth is drowned by lies and shame —
We’re all to blame, we fuel the flame.



---------------------



Defoliants

Chemical war’s long hailed a friend —
“Safe,” “harmless,” science claims again.
A simple mask for harm to blend —
No danger here, no cause for pain!

Leaves burn away, then vanish fast —
A poison gone in just a flash.
This science wise? No fool can trust —
The traitors lie, the **** still clash.

And women bear no children now —
The foes spin lies, their twisted play.
But “ours” don’t **** — they vow somehow
To guard our health, come what may.

They guard our health, this great charade —
Fake viruses spread like smoke.
The “scholars” justify the raid —
The villains hooked on lies they spoke.

No chemical bombs we need today —
Just fools and lies will do the job.
“Health protection” is their play —
Hybrid war with a deadly mob.

We’ll **** them all with “health” and care —
A twisted fate beyond compare.



---------------------




1.
Chemical war’s a clean disguise —
They poison with their masked lies.

2.
No bombs needed, just false “care,”
Health kills silent everywhere.

3.
Lies breed death in hybrid fight —
Truth’s the spark, ignite the night.

4.
Fools believe the science lies,
While poison spreads and freedom dies.



---------------------



The Ache of Withering in This “World”

The ache of withering in this “world,”
If even just a spark of mind,
Grows wider every year it’s hurled —
And grinds your spirit down, confined.

The soul’s slow ****** is the madness,
Where all together rot and fade.
Add biting sarcasm’s gladness —
And press the body in the shade.

Add sensitivity — then hell
Will grip you in this cursed place:
No skin beneath the Moloch’s spell,
Wish foes to stay — eternal disgrace.

No trial worse than that awaits,
Hard to invent in hell’s domain.
Though hell, as always, tortures, hates —
Multiplies the madness’ reign.

The foes are thick-skinned beasts, heartless,
For long they’ve played their wicked part.
They spread their filth so artlessly,
You’ll float like logs — deadwood in dark.

And logs surround us everywhere —
In forests, life and light abound.
But in this mad and cursed snare,
The thinner you — the more you’re bound.

By madmen’s logs that crush your soul
Till all your sanity is spent.
Among the logs, the worst control —
The Judas ones — they wait, hell-bent.

Betrayal’s now a paid routine,
Corruption’s like the grains of sand.
Among the logs — the fools and fiends —
Despair will surely **** your stand.

Despair breeds sickness, drunkenness,
Depression, death — best learn it fast,
So fewer fall into the mess,
Less sacrifice the Fates will cast.

If fewer fall, your Spirit grows —
Creative fire will light the way —
Till you don’t fall to slaughter’s throes
And vanish with the crowd’s decay.

So many ways to **** the soul —
The simplest trick’s just ******’s blade.
In this hell where Satan plays God’s role,
Since childhood we in rot are laid.

Fight and create — this sole escape,
To save your soul from hell’s cruel hand.
And one day God will call the tape,
When Sun will burn out every strand.

The cleansing, firing, testing flame —
That’s what awaits us all ahead.
Spirit is measure, hope, and aim —
Walk only Spirit’s path instead.

Before they **** us in the pens,
Where shame and world’s disgrace conspire,
Where lies and fear, like deadly dens,
Make sickness rule with cruel fire.

The ache of withering in this “world” —
Is dread if sickness seems so slight.
A paper target in a field
Of evil attacks day and night.



---------------------




1.
The world decays, the spirit dies,
A paper target ‘neath dark skies.

2.
Despair breeds rot, the soul’s slow ****,
In madness trapped, we bend our will.

3.
Logs crush the weak, the Judas waits,
While evil rules and seals our fates.

4.
Fight, create — or drown in hell,
Only Spirit can break the spell.



---------------------




1.
This cursed world’s a rotting pit —
Your soul’s the prey, they’ll crush and split.

2.
Judas logs will grind you down,
In this hell where fools all drown.

3.
Despair is poison, death’s slow friend —
Resist or perish in the end.

4.
Madness rules — the spirit’s chains,
Break free, or drown in endless pains.



---------------------



The Path

The old world’s ended — now ahead,
A hellish camp of pain and dread.
Few roads remain for fighters true,
So many traps await your view.

You must grasp all this fiery Hell,
And seek the way to break its spell.
Long ruled by vile, inhuman **** —
A way to fight must then become.


We all must unite, build from scratch,
A world anew, no strings to catch.
No worthy cause remains today —
Or else you’ll fade like worms away.


The world’s fascism crushes lice,
History shows its ruthless vice.
Cast off your apathy, your shame —
Only honor, reason, claim.

Expose the lies, tear off the mask,
Reveal the pus where shadows bask.
Spread truth wherever you have breath —
This fight is one that beats back death.


The bitter truth’s bright torch must burn,
From ashes, build and then return.
No worthy cause remains today —
Or else you’ll fade like worms away.


Create new ways, new clans to rise,
Of reason’s last survivors wise.
No fascist fiend can **** them all,
If ideas break the wicked’s thrall.

Autonomy — the core, the key,
To starve the fiends’ corruption spree.
The sprouts of freedom will emerge,
And bloodless wars the **** will purge.


In clans united, we shall stand,
And build a world from ****** land.
No worthy cause remains today —
Or else you’ll fade like worms away.


Freedom’s above all else we prize —
Without it, life’s a hollow guise.
We must protect its fragile seed,
And nurture every vital need.

Then from the ground, we build again —
The only way to break the chain.
The old world’s noose tight ‘round the neck —
But Sovereigns’ will cannot be wrecked.


We must become Sovereigns all,
And from the ruins build the wall.
No worthy cause remains today —
Or else you’ll fade like worms away.


So let us rise and build our fate —
Foundations strong for triumph great!
The devils’ feast will break apart,
And cesspools dry of poison’s art.



---------------------



The Path

The old world’s dead — ahead, a hellish cage,
A death camp looming, fueled by hate and rage.
Few roads remain for those who dare to fight,
A twisted maze of shadows, pain, and blight.

You must confront this Hell that’s ruled by fiends,
Find weapons sharp to tear apart their schemes.
Long tyrants spat their poison, cold and vile —
It’s time to strike and shatter all their guile.


Unite, rise up! Build all from scratch again!
No more weak causes, no more silent pain.
You’ll rot like vermin if you play it safe —
The worm’s fate waits for those who fear the grave.


Worldwide fascists stomp like cruel machines,
History’s blood-soaked pages paint their scenes.
Shake off the numbness, rage and take your stand —
With honor, reason blazing in your hand.

Expose their lies, tear open festering sores,
Spread truth like fire through their rotten floors.
This fight is urgent — no more wasted breath —
Stand fierce, stand strong, fight back against your death.


Carry the torch of bitter, blazing truth!
Build new worlds from ashes, reclaim your youth!
No cause remains worth less than life itself —
Or you’ll rot slowly on a worm’s dark shelf.


Create new clans — strongholds for minds unchained,
Where fascist **** and vipers won’t remain.
Autonomy’s the weapon we will wield,
To starve their hunger, make their towers yield.

Freedom’s seedlings rise through scorched, cracked ground,
Bloodless battle cries will shake their hounds.

Together in clans we’ll stand, unbreakable,
From ****** soil, rise fierce and capable.
No cause remains worth less than life itself —
Or you’ll rot slowly on a worm’s dark shelf.


Freedom’s our crown, our last and greatest prize —
Without it, all is hollow, dead disguise.
Protect its flame, defend it with your soul —
Or face the dark abyss of lost control.

From rubble’s grave, we’ll build anew, reborn,
Break every chain, face down the coming storm.
The old world’s noose strangles the weak and blind —
But Sovereigns’ wills will shatter and unwind.


We must become the Sovereigns, fierce and proud,
Raise up our voices, strong and clear and loud.
No cause remains worth less than life itself —
Or you’ll rot slowly on a worm’s dark shelf.


Rise up, unite! Construct our fate with fire,
Foundations strong, forged in the rage of ire!
The devil’s feast will crumble and decay —
The cesspools burn — their poison swept away.



---------------------



The Path

Old world’s dead — death camp’s all that’s left,
Fight or rot as vermin, stripped and cleft.
Sovereigns rise — no chains, no lies, no shame,
Burn their cesspools down — ignite the flame!



---------------------



To Nowhere...

Here’s the first — the only king,
All the rest? Just flies that cling.
Golden mean’s not meant for us —
No good cause to pause or fuss.

Walk your path — no one awaits,
Step on heads — that’s how it’s made.
Boldness rules, the brazen sham —
Only gutsy **** can cram.

Nature? We don’t give a **** —
No mother here, just ruthless land.
A field to fight, collect your state,
No mercy waits — it’s all too late.

Big shot in this filthy town,
First foul beast with crooked crown.
All the middling crawl in slime,
Drowned and soaked in grime and crime.

No first place — that means you’re lost,
Nerves are tight, the stakes are tossed.
Grab the biggest chunk and fight,
General’s way — crush left and right.

Smaller bite? Then you’re the pawn,
Step aside, your time is gone.
Feet are wiped upon your face,
You’re a dog without a place.

Mammon’s god, his grip is tight,
World’s for sinners, dark as night.
Lower **** must bite and scratch,
No respect for pomp and batch.

"True books" men? We don’t comply —
Trash them, burn, and say goodbye.
Only scraps on garbage piles,
Aggression is our style.

First in line to get the blow —
Universe’s harshest show.
Thinking’s lost amid attacks,
Dust you’ll gather on your tracks.

Half a century past the dawn,
Energy beams fired on.
Into sun, trembling freak —
Sun grows fierce year after week.

Cows don’t **** that blazing heat,
When it burns, no trick or cheat.
No guns, gold, power, or "first" —
You’re the biggest fool, accursed.

All the canned beasts — dust and rust,
Crumbled to ash, and turned to dust.
A new pure world will rise above,
Where Hell is gone — but not the shove.

Too many turned to foul disease,
Lost their souls, no chance to please.
Servile dogs in final age,
Dragging out this cursed stage.

Spirit life will come at last,
Only few will stand steadfast.
**** returns to hell anew —
If the path leads only through —

To Nowhere...



---------------------



To Nowhere

One king rules, the rest are flies,
In this world of fools and lies.
Step on heads — no time to care,
Only brazen **** get there.

Nature’s just a ruthless stage,
No mother, only rage.
Grind the weak beneath your heel,
Only madness here is real.

Fools fight over scraps and dust,
Power fades — betray your trust.
Sun burns hotter, time runs out —
All your guns will fail, no doubt.

Canned beasts turn to ash and smoke,
New world born from all this choke.
Few will rise when Hell is done —
Spirit wins, the fight is won.

**** returns to burning flame,
If the path’s to nowhere — shame.



---------------------



To Nowhere

Here reigns but one true king —
The rest are flies that crawl and sting.
No middle ground for us to find,
No pause, no cause to stay behind.

Step on heads, crush, and climb,
The brazen **** will rule this time.
Nature’s not a gentle mother,
Just battlegrounds and states of bother.

The first lad of the village, foul and mean,
Commands a “land” of sludge unseen.
No strength, no honor — just the fight
For scraps in darkness, out of sight.

If you grasp the largest slice,
You’re general cold, no mercy twice.
Small pieces mean you’re cast away,
Trampled, scorned, a dog’s dismay.

Mammon reigns as chief god here,
This world’s not fit for those sincere.
The **** below will bite and crawl,
And “true” bookworms — we’ll shun them all.

Aggression, brashness — all we’ve got,
The weakest trapped, forever caught.
Our world’s a target — chaos rife,
No peace or quiet in this life.

Gather ashes, bury deep —
This fight is death, no soul to keep.
The Spirit, Mind — cast out, dismissed,
Lost beneath the endless mist.

A spark was sent half-century past,
Into the Sun’s core burning fast.
The Sun grows fiercer every year —
No gun, no wealth will save you here.

You’re just a fool, first of your kind,
A canned beast trapped inside his mind.
All will crumble into dust,
A new world rises from the rust.

Though harsh and cruel, it must be so —
No place here for the rotten foe.
Too many **** have lost their grace,
Just dogs left to end the race.

Only few will walk the light,
When Hell gives way to Spirit’s might.
The **** returns to flame and pain,
If all roads lead to nowhere — shame.



---------------------



To Nowhere

Only one king here rules the throne,
The rest are flies, just flesh and bone.
No golden mean, no room to rest,
Step on heads — only the brash are blessed.

Nature’s no mother, just the pit,
A ruthless game — no room to quit.
The village king, a filthy rat,
Rules the dump — and that is that.

No spine to straighten, no wounds to heal,
Just drunk on lies, all fake and real.
Our ship’s sinking, rats run wild,
No shores for the free, just fools and exiles.

It’s all a fight for scraps and power,
Mammon’s gods run every hour.
True souls cast out, left to rot,
This cesspool world — a living blot.

Bite the hand above you, fight the chains,
No “holy books” — just filthy stains.
Only trash thrives in this abyss,
The strong get crushed, the weak dismiss.

Aggression’s law, the only way,
Soft ones caught and thrown away.
Ashes gather, burial’s near,
Spirit lost to endless fear.

A spark shot straight to the burning sun,
Half a century — and still not done.
The sun’s a furnace, burning fast,
No gun, no gold — your time won’t last.

You’re fool supreme, canned and sealed,
Destined for dust, your fate revealed.
A new pure world will rise in fire,
**** cast out — no more liar.

Only few will cross that light,
The rest condemned to endless night.
**** returns to Hell’s domain,
If all roads lead to nowhere — pain.



---------------------



To Nowhere

Only one king commands this hell,
The rest just flies in endless hell.
No golden middle — none, no cause,
Step on heads — only shameless claws.

Nature’s no mother, just a pit,
A ruthless game where none shall quit.
Village king — a stinking rat,
Rules the filth, and that is that.

No spine to straighten, wounds ignored,
Drowned in lies, the truth’s deplored.
Our ship sinks fast, rats flee the deck,
No free shores left, just chains and wreck.

Scraps and power — all they fight for,
Mammon’s gods demand much more.
True souls discarded, left to rot,
This cesspool world — a putrid blot.

Bite the higher hand that feeds,
Holy books? Just lies and weeds.
Only trash survives this pit,
Strong get crushed, the weak submit.

Aggression’s law, the only way,
Soft ones caught, then thrown away.
Ashes pile, the end is near,
Spirit lost to endless fear.

A spark shot straight to burning sun,
Half a century — the race’s run.
Sun’s a furnace, blazing high,
No gun, no gold, just doomed to die.

You’re fool supreme, canned and sealed,
Fated for dust, your fate revealed.
A new pure world will rise in flame,
**** cast out — no room for shame.

Only few will cross that light,
The rest condemned to endless night.
**** returns to Hell’s domain,
If all roads lead to nowhere — pain.



---------------------



The Idiotic Foundations of Society’s Rot

The idiotic roots of this society’s decay:
Violence, lies from internet trash heaps’ spray;
Factories built to break and rearrange
The minds of slaves — “education” breeds the strange.

Artificial woes — constant worry grown,
As if beneath each step an explosive’s sown.
No life remains — just endless dread and fear,
Where terror rules and sanity’s unclear.

For frightened mice, foul poison slips with ease,
Disguised as cures, designed to displease.
False crises fuel the tyrant’s game,
Binding chains of slavery through evil’s name.

Ignorance made science, endlessly refined —
To study how to keep the slave confined,
How to weaken minds, dumb down the whole,
And crush the spirit, enslave the soul.

Research institutes of ruin work non-stop,
Where demons rule, and Satan’s on top.
Their ****** parade as nation’s pride,
While truth is crushed and justice died.

The vile parasites reap power and pay,
They crown their puppets, puppets obey.
The devil’s servants fill the halls,
The world descends into darkness’ falls.

The Overton Window — their slow-cook trap,
Boiling frogs with water’s cold slap.
Result: beasts and ****, not men remain,
Ready to devour all that’s sane.

For those who think, for minds sharp and bright,
There’s prisons, asylums, dead of night.
Only lies and chaos get their spin,
The link to Spirit cut clean within.

The wise and good now count but few,
And many fall ‘cause horror grew.
They see the rot, the plague, the blight,
And no longer wait for dawn’s light.

But this worldwide *****’s house will burn,
This plague of madness we must spurn.
For Mind and Spirit bring true pain
To those who hold them — Hell to drain.



---------------------



Into the Vastness

Poems fly out into space,
Everything else is just trash —
Vanity, pride, and false face,
With little fire to flash.

If you tailor words for the crowd,
Will readers truly hear?
They’ll lie through verse so loud —
Truth’s rare, and sharpness feared.

To praise a crooked lie’s the law,
“Love” the hollow song.
Slaves can’t love — and that’s the flaw,
The masses singing wrong.

When you bring alarm and rage,
Success won’t come your way.
Only few see past the cage,
When madness rules the day.

The sold-out fools defend their lies,
Dumbed by poison “truth,”
Their knowledge fake, their spirit dies,
A ruin in its youth.

If you strike at this deceit,
Your verse must cut and bite.
No asking for applause or sweet
Attention in the fight.

Don’t trust, don’t whine, don’t fear,
Nor plead for sympathy.
Cleanse your mind with blood and sear
The verse’s energy.

A filthy devil sits on high —
No justice in his court.
Poems sent to space? Or why
Dig trenches for the thought?

Most write only shameless drivel —
“Love” rotting in the pit,
Becoming nonsense, lies that swivel
To madness, full and lit.

Poems fly... perhaps to hell,
Another ****** domain.
I do not grieve nor dwell,
I smash the filth and stain.

Again the beast crucifies,
Spewing nonsense to the herd.
A new poem now will rise —
I don’t care, no word.

Whether crushed or praised by fools,
Art has its twisted ways.
If you don’t rage against their rules,
Your days are dull malaise.

Waste your time in futile toil,
But find a spark to guide.
In this brutal world’s turmoil,
Truth’s a flame inside.

A grain of truth is triumph’s key,
Half-truths breed the fiends.
Worse than liars craft the spree —
Poisons in the streams.

Soon this earth’s a hellish place,
Sent back to dust and fire.
The sun will burn the vile disgrace,
Consume all the mire.

So sold-out voices mean no more,
False pride blocks the mind.
Let your poem bravely soar —
No limits, no confines.

Fly on, poem. No matter where
Your flight may find its rest.
If you reach the bold who dare —
You’ll never be suppressed.



---------------------



The Deadly Storm of Pseudo-Science Lies

I studied math — a proof I made,
So now I watch with wary eyes
The deadly storm where falsehoods braid:
The flood of pseudo-science lies.

They pay their “scholars” fat rewards —
Not for the light of truth’s embrace.
Instead, they push fake worlds to hordes,
A nagging, endless, toxic chase.

The dull charade that kills the mind,
Forgets the Spirit, tortures Soul —
Madness “gifted” by the blind,
A circus with a deadly role.

Pseudo-science casts its spells,
Like shamans clumsy and untrained.
“Science proved it!” everyone yells —
In fake lands, fools remain chained.

But proofs they claim so brazenly
Are lies, a cruel mockery.
The gullible believe so easily,
Blind to the fraud’s perversity.

A shining example, the “sheep virus,”
Madness pushed to the brink.
From “science” comes just mental circus,
Sarcasm’s lost, it cannot think.

Manipulating common mind —
The goal of all this false pretense.
A race to trap all humankind,
And strand the world on ignorance.

These “tech” that **** the Soul within,
Destroy the Earth from core to rim.
Like lice upon a rotting skin,
Humans scratch, but Earth is grim.

And lice can be burned away,
If Earth’s own wisdom wakes to fight.
The sun’s fierce fire will have its way —
And humans burn like moths in light.

Is Earth’s own Consciousness in lies?
No place for truth in this foul game.
These selling fiends with practiced ties,
Are trained to lie without shame.

Is man a Spirit, pure and free,
Or just flesh’s tiny part?
No, only petty tasks you see —
A slave who begs with empty heart.

Believe in none, re-learn the whole,
The world anew, with Spirit’s guide.
Planned dulling of the global soul —
“Science” serves the dark’s dark side.

The forces at the Sun and Earth,
Lift worlds to Spirit’s higher plane.
The Sun will burn corruption’s girth,
Lice consumed, pure truth will reign.

Discard the false god science made —
It leads to hell with lies and rot.
Multiply your Spirit’s aid —
Escape this stench before it’s got.



---------------------



The Crushing Storm of Pseudo-Science Lies

I cracked the code — a theorem proved,
Now watch the plague that blinds the mind:
A lethal flood of lies, unmoved,
By truth — just poison intertwined.

They pay these “scientists” in heaps,
Not for wisdom’s piercing light,
But for spinning fake-*** heaps
Of nonsense forced on us — outright.

A circus dull, that kills the soul,
Forgot the Spirit, crushed the Mind.
Madness stamped as “truth” — their goal,
A plague for fools, mankind confined.

Pseudo-shamans chant their spells,
Dumb frauds wrapped in lab coats’ lies.
“Science proved it!” — cult that sells
Its poison to gullible eyes.

Their “proofs” are lies, grotesque frauds,
Mockery wrapped in fake degrees.
The gullible lap up these clods —
Blind slaves to manufactured disease.

The sheep-virus — peak of crap,
Madness pushed beyond all bounds.
Science? Just a mind collapse,
Sarcasm drowned beneath the sounds.

They puppeteer our common sense —
Their goal: to trap and drag us down,
A race to wreck the whole **** fence,
To drag the world through filth and drown.

Their “technology” kills the soul,
Poisons Earth’s body, scars the land.
Humans swarm like lice control,
******* life with filthy hands.

But lice can burn when Earth awakes,
The sun ignites a cleansing fire.
When heat is real, the falsehood breaks,
Humans die — mere moths in pyre.

Earth’s true Consciousness crushed by lies?
No room for truth in hell’s domain.
These sellout ******* wear disguise,
Spewing lies that choke and chain.

Man’s a Spirit? Hell no — just meat,
A slave to crumbs, dumb and betrayed.
The petty tasks that keep you beat —
Begging scraps as life decayed.

Don’t trust a thing, relearn your world,
Awake your Spirit, fight the plague.
This mass dumb-down’s been tightly twirled —
“Science” serves the devil’s plague.

The cosmic forces, sun and Earth,
Will raise us to the Spirit’s throne.
The sun will scorch corruption’s girth —
Burn lice to ash, restore the known.

Trash the science idol false —
It drags us down to hell’s abyss.
Only Spirit’s strength repels
This stench and rot — salvation’s kiss.



---------------------



The Ruinous Gale of Pseudo-Science Lies

I studied math, theorems proved,
Yet watch this storm that blinds all thought —
A gale of lies from falsehoods moved,
Where truth is drowned and reason caught.

They pay these “scientists” in coins,
Not for the light of true insight,
But for a world of crafted *****,
Where falsehood reigns and darkens sight.

A theater of soulless acts,
Where spirit’s flame is smothered deep.
Madness wears the guise of facts,
And drags the soul into its keep.

Pseudo-shamans cast their spells,
Clad in robes of fake renown,
Claiming truths as worn-out shells,
While wisdom’s voice is crushed and drowned.

The proofs they parade — mere sham,
A brazen mockery on display.
Yet man, so prone to flimsy scam,
Gives credence to their foul play.

The sheep-virus of lies evolved,
Madness pushed beyond all bounds.
“Science” here — a mind dissolved,
Sarcasm silenced by the sounds.

They manipulate collective mind —
Their purpose: bind us in their chain,
A contest cruel and so unkind,
To sink the world in endless pain.

Their “progress” kills the very soul,
Pollutes the earth, defiles the air.
Humanity reduced to roles
Of lice, ignored and stripped bare.

But Earth is not a silent slave,
Her consciousness will soon arise,
The sun will burn away the grave —
And purify the false disguise.

Is there a place for truth in lies?
No room within this shattered sphere.
These hired liars wear thin guise,
Their deception bred in fear.

Is man a spirit or mere flesh,
A pawn to crumbs, dumb and confined?
The petty tasks, the endless mesh —
Of slaves to gifts that dull the mind.

Reject all lies, reclaim your sight,
Awaken spirit, seek the true.
Though darkness dims the fading light,
The path remains for those who do.

The cosmic pulse that beats in suns,
Will lift us from this mortal cage.
The fire burns where falsehood runs,
A cleansing blaze to end the age.

Cast down the idols falsely crowned,
Lest you be dragged to hell’s domain.
Only spirit’s strength is found,
To break the chains and heal the pain.



---------------------



The Devouring Gale of False Science

I traced the threads of logic’s weave,
Proved truths that time cannot undo—
Yet see this tempest minds deceive,
A gale of lies that blinds what’s true.

These “scholars” paid in empty gold,
Not for the flame of insight’s light,
But to weave webs, dark and cold,
And cloak the world in endless night.

A theater of soulless screams,
Where spirit’s breath is crushed to dust,
Madness cloaked in science’s dreams,
Chains forged from fear, deceit, and rust.

False prophets chant their hollow spells,
Sorcerers of sham and guise,
Claiming knowledge — but darkness dwells
Behind the mask of their disguise.

Their proofs—a cruel and artful lie,
Mocking reason, scorned and torn,
While gullible souls comply,
Feeding lies till hope is worn.

A viral plague of sheep and shame,
Where madness spreads unchecked and wild.
“Science” here, a hollow name,
A poison subtle and reviled.

They bend the mind’s collective core,
To forge a cage from fear and pain,
A game to drag us evermore
Into a void devoid of gain.

Their “progress” kills the soul’s deep seed,
Pollutes the earth, suffocates the air.
Humanity, a crawling breed,
Like lice that multiply in despair.

But Earth itself, a living soul,
Will rise in fire to purge the blight,
The sun’s fierce heart will sear and roll,
Burning falsehood into light.

Is there truth left within this lie?
No sacred place within this tomb.
Deceivers reign beneath the sky,
Their reign a veil of endless gloom.

Is man a spark of spirit’s flame,
Or slave to crumbs that numb and bind?
A puppet lost in mortal shame,
Drowned in gifts that dull the mind.

Awake! Reject the poisoned stream,
Reclaim the light that’s truly yours.
Though shadows smother every dream,
The spirit’s path endures, endures.

The pulse of suns, the cosmic breath,
Will lift us from this cage of clay.
Through fire, through chaos, even death—
The spirit finds its sovereign way.

Cast down false idols crowned in lies,
Lest you be dragged to hell’s abyss.
Only the soul that dares to rise
Can break these chains and reclaim bliss.



---------------------



The Devouring Gale of False Science

I traced the sacred lines of thought,
Unveiled the truths that time begets—
Yet now the world is caught, distraught,
In lies that bind like tightening nets.

These “scientists,” bought and sold,
Not seekers of the Light within,
But merchants of a darkness cold,
Spreading falsehoods, seeds of sin.

A theatre where souls are crushed,
Where Spirit’s breath is torn away,
Madness dressed in reason’s brush,
Chains forged in deceit and clay.

False priests chant arcane incantations,
Sorcerers with empty hands,
Claiming science as salvation—
Yet they sow the blackest strands.

Their proofs are cruel blasphemy,
A mockery of mortal minds.
Blind devotion breeds the plague,
And reason withers, lost, confined.

A viral herd of soulless sheep,
Madness roaring unchecked and wild.
False science digs a grave too deep,
The poisoned chalice, bitter and defiled.

They warp the minds of all mankind,
A cage constructed out of dread.
The soul’s bright flame, they seek to bind,
And drown in lies the path ahead.

Their progress kills the sacred spark,
Poisons earth, corrupts the sky.
Humans crawl, blind in the dark,
Like lice on corpses, doomed to die.

But Earth—she holds a living fire,
A core that burns with truth’s fierce breath,
The sun will rise with purging pyre,
To burn the lies and wake from death.

Is there a soul within this lie?
A temple in this house of shame?
Deceivers reign beneath the sky,
But Spirit’s light remains aflame.

Is man a mere machine of flesh,
Or Spirit’s child, divine and free?
Or just a slave to hollow flesh,
Dulled by gifts that blind and bleed?

Awake! Break free from chains that bind,
Reclaim the sacred spark inside.
Though shadows crawl and tempests blind,
The Spirit’s path shall still abide.

The pulse of suns, the cosmic breath,
Will lift us from this mortal hell.
Through fire, through chaos, even death—
The soul will rise, it will rebel.

Cast down the idols forged in lies,
Lest you be dragged to endless night.
Only the soul that dares to rise
Can shatter chains and claim the Light.

So fight, reclaim your inner throne,
Beyond the veil of lies and scorn.
For in that flame you stand alone—
Yet from that flame, a world is born.



---------------------



The Devouring Gale of False Science

I traced the sacred lines of thought,
Unveiled the truths that time begets—
Yet now the world is caught, distraught,
In lies that bind like tightening nets.

False prophets clad in shadows’ veil,
Mouthpieces of the void’s cold breath—
Their science is a cursed grail,
A chalice brimming with slow death.

These “scientists,” by darkness led,
Are sorcerers of the abyss,
Whispering to the living dead,
Selling souls in silent hiss.

A theatre of broken minds,
Where Spirit’s flame is doused and chained,
Madness dances, fate unkind,
On thrones of ashes, crowned and stained.

They weave their spells with twisted tongues,
Incantations forged in lies,
As ancient cosmic song is wrung
To birth the serpent’s cruel disguise.

Their proofs—a mockery profane,
Veils hiding the abyss below.
The faithful drink the venomed bane,
Blind shepherds led where shadows grow.

A viral herd, a plague of thought,
Madness roaring unchecked and wild.
False science crafts the abyssal plot,
The poison chalice, bitter and defiled.

They warp the mind’s eternal light,
Forge cages from despair and dread,
Bind the soul in endless night,
Where hope is drowned, and spirit bled.

Their progress feeds on sacred flame,
Poisons earth, defiles the sky,
Humanity, lost in the game,
Like lice on corpses doomed to die.

Yet deep beneath the darkened veil,
A primal fire still burns bright—
The sun, a forge beyond the pale,
Will purge the shadows with its light.

Is there a soul behind the mask?
A beacon in this house of shame?
Though deceivers weave their task,
The Spirit’s flame remains untamed.

Are we but dust and fleeting breath,
Or children of eternal fire?
Slaves of flesh, resigned to death,
Or bearers of the soul’s desire?

Awake! Break chains that bind your core,
Reclaim the sacred spark within.
Through storms, through darkness evermore,
The Spirit’s path will still begin.

The pulse of suns, the cosmic breath,
Draw us from the void’s deep hell.
Through fire, through chaos, even death—
The soul will rise, will break the spell.

Cast down the idols forged in lies,
Lest darkness drag you to its lair.
Only souls who dare to rise
Can shatter night and claim the air.

So fight—the battle’s spirit-thrall—
Beyond the veil, beyond the scorn.
From that pure flame, a new world calls,
Born in the fire, reborn, reborn.



---------------------



The Infernal Gale of False Science

I sought the sacred geometry of thought,
Unveiling Truth’s eternal flame—
Yet here the world is darkly caught,
By serpents cloaked in Science’s name.

False priests of Void, the shadowed choir,
Invoke the abyss with whispered lies,
Their alchemy—corruption’s fire—
A chalice brimmed with soul’s demise.

They weave black spells with poisoned breath,
The shaman’s mask on blinded eyes.
Each “proof” a lie that dances death,
While spirit’s sacred flame denies.

The cosmos mourns in silent grief,
The Dance of Light turned into scorn.
Madness reigns beyond belief,
On thrones where ashes crown the torn.

They bind the mind with chains unseen,
Incantations of decay—
And drown the Spirit’s vital sheen
In shadows cast by falsehood’s sway.

A viral plague of empty thought,
Madness roars its bitter cry.
The abyss with poison wrought,
Beneath the sun’s eternal sky.

They desecrate the sacred earth,
Defile the heavens’ radiant gold.
Humanity, bereft of worth,
Like lice on corpses, weak and cold.

Yet deeper than the darkest night,
The primal fire still burns within—
The Sun, the Great Awakening Light,
Will cleanse the false, destroy the sin.

Is there a soul beneath the dust?
A spark to pierce this veil of pain?
Or slaves to flesh, consumed by rust,
Bound tight within the liar’s chain?

Awake, O child of ancient fire!
Break free the cage that dims your sight.
Through shadowed realms and hellish pyre,
The Spirit calls to endless light.

The cosmic pulse, the starry breath,
Draws forth from darkness, from the fall.
Through death, through chaos, through the death—
The soul will rise beyond the thrall.

Tear down the idols forged in lies,
False gods of flesh and empty dreams.
Only those who dare to rise
Can pierce the night with sacred beams.

The ancient Guardians of the Flame,
Watch from realms beyond the veil.
Their silent wisdom calls your name,
To walk the path where Truth prevails.

The Phoenix rises from the ash,
The Dragon sleeps within your core.
Through trials dark and cosmic clash,
Your Spirit soars forevermore.

So fight—the battle is within—
A war of shadows, fire, and light.
From depths below to heights unseen,
Born in the sacred eternal fight.

— The End —